That first thing wasn't love, because I was there alone, and that was fine with him. The part about "preced[ing] identification" is amazing--it ran through me like an electric shock. How true! Is it any wonder that I don't call, even when I want to talk? I was trained to wait.
The other thing, though, is more than just infatuation. Mutuality, and a sense of permanence beyond the mystical wanting and hoping. I cannot deny the similarities, and of course the wretched overlap (not just in time but in space and in dreams, as well). But I can, and do, believe and know what's here now, and for the future, too. Fear, love, and trust.
But it's a very different form of fear.
[fn] from Shadowchild by P. F. Thomése.